


Promises, Promises

by eeyore9990



Series: For Want of a Gag (Reflex) [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Overstimulation, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And the thing was, Derek had already come.  He'd <i>just finished</i> coming down Stiles' throat, but there was still a clawing, burning <i>need</i> under his skin and all he could think about, the only piece of reality he had left to cling to, was the promise Stiles had made at the club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises, Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badwolfbadwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf/gifts).



> Happy Teen Wolf Day!! Enjoy some porn before the show breaks us all into a thousand tiny, sobbing pieces.

The ding of the elevator shocked Derek out of his stupor, leaving him vibrating in his skin as Stiles slowly stood, thumbing at a wet spot on his mouth. Reached for Stiles, Derek forgot to check his strength as he pulled until Stiles was pressed against him from knee to chest.  A mix of pleasure and pain sizzled up Derek's spine when Stiles' denim-covered groin rubbed against his spit-slick, softening cock.  A whine was lost in the grinding sound of the elevator doors opening, depositing them on his floor.

He didn't even notice his cock hanging out of his opened jeans, too caught up in the blatantly lustful expression on Stiles' face. Too absorbed in the wide streak of red that stood out lividly on one cheek and the thin, stuttering scratch on the other. On the shine of Stiles' abused lips.

On the dark gleam in his eyes.

And the thing was, Derek had already come. He'd _just finished_ coming down Stiles' throat, but there was still a clawing, burning _need_ under his skin and all he could think about, the only piece of reality he had left to cling to, was the promise Stiles had made at the club. 

_"... destroy your ass... hold you down... put you on your face... eat your ass until you're begging... until you're crying..."_

Someone must have opened the door, because he was suddenly in the loft, blinking at the back of Stiles' head. 

"What? Where...?"

Stiles paused in the doorway to the bathroom before turning back, his lips curved upward in a beautiful, deadly smile. "Go to your room. Take off all your clothes. I'll take care of everything else."

Derek stood blindly staring until Stiles closed the door, then he turned, almost falling over his own feet as his post-orgasm lethargy made itself known. He stepped out of his shoes, peeled his jeans off at the foot of the winding staircase, left his shirt draped over the railing. His socks went somewhere... He'd find them later, maybe. 

He didn't stop walking when he got to his bed, just stepped up onto the mattress and walked to the middle before kneeling facing the headboard and sat back on his heels. When he fell forward, hands sliding under his pillow to bunch it beneath his face, his position left his ass in the air.

He was begging already, without even opening his mouth.

Something in the currents of the air in his room shifted, and Derek knew it was Stiles. He couldn't hear him over the sound of his blood rushing through his veins or smell him over the sharp, bitter scent of his own arousal. But Derek could _feel_ Stiles there, behind him, could feel the weight of his gaze as it raked over the sight of Derek folded in half, thighs spread wide and ass thrust high in supplication.

"Stiles," he groaned, muffling it into the pillow, some small part of himself still aware enough to be embarrassed by his own neediness.

Air fanned over him and he turned his head to see Stiles squatting beside him, face serious. "Do you need a safe word?"

Derek sighed, fingers unclenching from his pillow as his shoulders relaxed, allowing his spine to curl at a more severe angle. "No," he murmured. 

Stiles stared at him for a long moment before nodding slowly, a cat-like grin stretching his mouth. He brought his hand up, curled into a fist, and Derek stared at it in confusion for a moment before Stiles slowly extended his fingers one by one until two packets of lube and a condom dropped onto the bed in front of Derek's face. "Keep an eye on those for me," Stiles said with a wink.

Derek blinked at them, a shiver racing down his spine as Stiles stood without another word and crawled onto the bed by Derek's hip. Something warm and wet slid over his ass, pushing between his cheeks and swiping roughly over his hole until Derek shifted, opening his legs even wider until what he recognized was a washcloth was brushing against the underside of his balls with every careless flick of Stiles' wrist. There was a stark contrast between the impersonal, thoughtlessly efficient washing and the care Stiles had taken to warm the cloth, to even think of Derek's comfort. It was a quick, perfunctory wash, and the thought of what it signalled left Derek panting into his pillow. 

Stiles was going to eat him like a starving man at a buffet. 

The washcloth sailed across the room to land with a wet slap in the bottom of Derek's empty laundry basket. And then Stiles was climbing between his legs, shouldering his thighs wider apart until Derek's muscles ached at the stretch. Wide palms slid across his cheeks, pushing them apart, thumbs tugging against the most sensitive skin right at the edge of his hole, pulling him open.

Derek shuddered as Stiles leaned down, breath blowing moist and warm over Derek's ass. With no other warning, Stiles' mouth was there, open, tongue pushing deep, spearing into him and startling a low, grunting moan from Derek. His cock filled so quickly it left his head spinning, and he shook as his muscles seized up, caught between pulling away and pushing closer.

But Stiles didn't take any notice of the confusion of the body under his hands and mouth. He just kept ripping Derek apart, thread by thread, his tongue flicking and fucking, flattening out and spearing in. His face pushed impossibly close, the scratch of stubble burning against the sensitive skin of Derek's ass until his hips were rocking back and forth, little sobs of pleasure huffing out of Derek with each exhale. Stiles' nose teased the top of Derek's ass as he screwed his whole face into the crease, pushing closer, deeper. Giving his tongue another tiny bit more of Derek to lick.

It went on for so long Derek could feel spit sliding down his taint, dripping onto his balls. His entire body was flushed, too hot. He dripped with sweat, his hair saturated. His fingers had been clenched in his pillow so long, they _ached_. His skin rippled with random goosebumps, his arms and legs shivering as his muscles quaked in reaction to the pleasure that was singing along his nerve endings. 

Words poured from Derek's mouth, or maybe they weren't even words but just random consonants. Sussurating hisses of what might have been Stiles' name if he'd had breath to stretch it out into something coherent.

He was close, so close, riding the edge of orgasm, when Stiles withdrew his tongue, using just the tip to curl over and around Derek's loose, grasping opening. He hummed, a smug, pleased sound, and Derek muffled a broken noise into his pillow at hearing it.

"What happens now, Derek? Hmm?" Stiles asked, sucking another soul-shaking kiss into the skin of Derek's inner ass cheek before biting down, sinking his teeth in until Derek's breath caught on a moan.

Derek had to try three times before his voice would work to form words instead of unintelligible, keening sounds. "You're gonna f-fuck me," his voice broke as another shudder ripped through him, making him arch off the bed, entire body one giant, naked mass of sensation, "until I can't breathe."

Stiles' pointed tongue played with the tooth prints in Derek's ass for a moment before he pressed a soft kiss to the skin. "Tell me how. _How_ am I going to fuck you, Derek? Will it be sweet?"

"No." Derek's voice was all breath, just sound pushing through his vocal chords as he struggled to fill his lungs.

"Will it be slow?" Stiles' tongue lashed out on _slow_ , flicking lightly over Derek's grasping hole.

"F-fuck, _Stiles_!" 

"Will I be tender and loving?" The mattress dipped as Stiles edged away, his hands slipping from Derek's skin.

 _Please._ Derek gasped, chest heaving as he scrambled to grab the cheeks of his ass, yanking them apart, pushing back toward Stiles. "Please!"

Everything went still, quiet, as Stiles froze behind him. "Is that what you want?" Stiles asked, his voice sharp enough to cut through the thick, heaving breaths that burst from Derek's chest.

"I want. I want—" Derek's vision blurred and he blinked, only to feel a tear squeeze out of the corner of his eye. "You promised!" He couldn't even string together words, too over stimulated, too _needy_. 

"What did I promise?" The mattress jiggled as Stiles stood up, and Derek was already drawing breath to shout in frustration, but then he heard the reassuring thud of a belt hitting the floor. "What promise did I make you, Derek?"

"Brutal," Derek sighed, rolling his wet face into his pillow. "Pounding. Gonna make me choke on it."

"And is that what you want?"

Derek coughed out a laugh, his body stretched taut, fingers digging into his own skin. "Need it," he whispered. " _Need_ you."

**Author's Note:**

> One more part to finish this off.


End file.
